Author's Note: Thanks you to those who reviewed, all very encouraging, so here's another chapter, and the promise of more to come.
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Chapter 2
His cell was a dank and grimy former storage room, with one dim light-bulb hanging overhead and some rusty oil drums in the corner. Manacles on his wrist and ankles chained him to the pipes with enough slack that he could sit and stand and move about 2 meters away from the wall, but he wasn't going to be leaving any time soon.
There wasn't much to do but sit on the floor, stare at the wall and wait for something to happen.
When they'd arrived at the base he'd been carried in his box directly to the basement where he was released and told to cooperate as they confined him.
"It's just a precaution." Blair told him as he was reluctantly chained. "When John's better he'll fix this."
They both knew it was a desperate hope that the great John Connor would be able to figure out a way to prove that Marcus was no longer until the thumb of his makers.
He felt so tense and anxious as he was put in restraints, memories of his first few days of incarceration came flooding back. Thankfully no orange jumpsuit this time, but neither was there a bed, or any sight of a window. No way to tell if it was day or night, or how much time would pass for him in this place.
Once they were satisfied that he was suitably shackled, the other resistance members hovered nearby waiting for Blair - no privacy was offered.
"Barnes and I talked it over on the way in." Blair stood leaning against the wall beside him, attempting a private conversation by turning her back towards the others. "He's sending me to the Nevada Bunker to coordinate the air support for Kansas. They've got a couple of T16s so I might actually get to do some flying."
After the destruction of Skynet's San Francisco base, the machines had lashed out against the other resistance cells in the Midwest and into the Deep South. With the leadership gone, the comms were flooded with calls for John Connor to take the reins. Kate had been the one to pick up his radio and use his usual channel to explain that he'd been injured in the battle of San Francisco but would soon be back on his feet.
She was smart enough to avoid any mention the heart transplant, his expected recovery time and certainly neglected to mention the machine they were currently housing in their basement.
John's command team were wary of the fact that if he didn't show signs of life to the rest of the resistance soon, someone else would seize the opportunity to step into the power vacuum and take command. No one was more aware of this than Kate Connor, who would have to find a balance between protecting her husband's position and protecting his health.
Marcus could sympathise with that. He knew that Blair, as a pilot, had a burning need to fly. She also had something to prove to the rest of her resistance cell. He didn't want her to be tarred as a machine lover and traitor for her association with him. Yet he was worried for her. She would be flying into battle, while he was locked up in the basement, wondering if he'd ever see the light of day.
"Be careful." He let his head bow closer to her ear to whisper. "Don't get caught on any pylons. I won't be there to catch you."
She grinned. "I don't usually need rescuing."
"Really?" He raised a playful eyebrow.
"Really." She had a killer smile. "I think you just like playing the hero."
He scoffed. "Any situation that makes me the good guy is pure accident." It felt like a natural response, the kind of banter he would have thrown at a pretty girl before he went to prison. But saying it reminded him that he wasn't just the convict from his previous existence. He was a machine, the very bad guy she was going off to fight.
Sobered by this though, he reached out, chains clanging, to touch the only person who made him feel human anymore. "Just come back, ok?"
She nodded, touched his cheek then turned to go, leaving him with the scent of her hair and a lingering warmth where her hand had been.
The door was slammed shut, creaking as the bolt was drawn across, locking him up for the night. He slid down the wall and sat with knees drawn up to his chest. He looked at the manacles, thick bracelets of iron. He was tempted to try and break one with his metal hand to see if he could, but what exactly would that do for him? Probably only make them more concerned for their safety, more paranoid about him breaking out and killing them all. And it sickened him to the core that Skynet might have some way to make him do that.
Marcus didn't know how much time had passed. He'd been sitting on his ass staring into space for a while. Then after a while he lay down and stared at the ceiling, letting his mind wander like he did when he was back in Longview, where there was nothing to do but think. This time however he had a lot to work on. When he'd connected with Skynet he'd taken in a considerable amount of information, not just about himself, but there was information there about Skynet, he just had to piece through it until he found something the Resistance could use. It was hard to see himself functioning like a computer, harder still given his lack of knowledge about computer. The information that had poured into his head when he'd made that connection had been painfully intense, and even now, accessing it took a certain amount of concentration.
This was probably how Kyle managed to catch him unaware.
"Hi!"
The enthusiastic greeting jolted him back to reality and brought him face to face with Kyle who was leaning over him.
"You were miles away."
Marcus sat up against the wall. "Just thinking."
"Sorry, it must be pretty boring down here."
"I'm used to it."
"Is this where they kept you last time?" Kyle asked looking around. He dropped to the ground beside Marcus, pulling his long limbs up to sit cross legged.
"No." He didn't volunteer any extra detail. They had hung him up because they believed he was a threat, and he didn't want Kyle to think less of them for it.
"Where's Star?"
"She's sleeping. That pilot lady gave us her bunk." He gave Marcus a sly look.
"What?" Marcus challenged him.
"Nothing, nothing." Kyle smirked. "She's really hot." This earned him an icy glare. "And she seems to really like you."
"What's not to like." He couldn't help the bitterness that crept into his voice. He caught Kyle staring at the chains and felt a wave of embarrassment and self-consciously covered his nearest wrist with his hand, which only drew attention to his skinless metal hand. Marcus flexed it, and they both watched servos and tiny pistons working intricately to mimic human movement.
"You're taking this whole … machine thing really well." He said quietly.
Kyle looked away and sighed, then chewed on his lip for a while.
"You didn't know what you were, did you?"
"No."
"It didn't seem weird to you that you didn't eat or sleep?"
"Didn't it seem weird to you?"
"I didn't notice!"
"Neither did I. I walked for days until I got to LA, and it never even occurred to me that I wasn't thirsty or hungry or tired."
"I just thought you were…" He shrugged. "Lots of people don't sleep these days, and no one volunteers to eat three day old coyote."
"It smelled like ..." Marcus tried to think of a suitable word without being too insulting.
"Sewer?" Kyle supplied.
"Yeah."
"They've got real food here, stuff that's made, like bread and stew. And they've got clean water."
Marcus felt for Kyle, that he would have such an appreciation for clean water, and for what he had to become to survive on his own in LA. He marvelled that the kid could be so open-hearted as to look after a little girl, as well as befriending a guy like Marcus.
"I hope they're looking after you and Star."
"Yeah, they are. I just wish I could help out." Some of the teen-aged restlessness began to shine through and Kyle fidgeting in his place. "I'm not used to not sitting around. Back in LA there was always something to do."
"I'm sure you won't be left idle for long." He had no doubt a kid as quick-witted and smart as Kyle would be put to use before long. "Did you see Connor?"
"No, he's in the infirmary. His wife's not letting anyone near him."
"I'm no expert but heart transplant's a pretty serious operation. I guess there's always the chance that it won't take."
"You mean he could still ..."
"I don't know. Kate's the doctor, you should really ask her." He felt certain that Connor, being the strong stubborn man that he was, would fight to accept the heart, but would likely have to suffer through a prolonged recovery.
They lapsed into silence, as Kyle stared around the room. "You know, I think I saw some books around, I'll go get some for you." He hopped up, and banged on the door to be let out before Marcus could object.
Kyle returned a little later. "They're just books, man!" He was arguing with the guard as he was let back in.
"He'll only let me give you one. So I picked the longest."
"Don't worry about it, Kyle." He took the proffered book. "'Gone with the Wind'?"
"Have you read it?"
"No, but…" He shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to say anything negative about it when Kyle had been thoughtful enough to help him with his boredom.
"I should really get back to Star." Kyle yawned and rubbed at his eyes, his youthful energy suddenly disappearing.
"Looks like you could do with some rest yourself." Marcus awkwardly got to his face, still uncomfortable with the weight of the chains. "Thanks for the book."
"I'll come by tomorrow." Kyle looked long and hard at him, eyes lingering on the restraints, evidently reluctant to leave him.
Marcus itched under the sorry gaze. He wants to reassure him in someway, but doesn't have the words.
Eventually Kyle turns to go, with a quiet, "Goodnight Marcus."
Kyle kept his word and visited with Marcus a little each day, sometimes twice when he was allowed. But he wasn't the only visitor Marcus received.
Kate Connor had a sharp and business-like bedside manner, and Marcus would like to think she was the same with every patient she met, not just the half human cyborgs she held a deep mistrust for.
He'd been lying on the ground reading the book Kyle brought him. Despite his preconceptions of the book and his vague memories of the pouting actress from the movie, he was beginning to like this ballsy and determined heroine and had kept reading, if only to find out if Scarlett would end up with the roguish Rhett Butler.
"How can you read in this light?"
He sat up, stiff and alert as she approach. Despite the fact that he could overpower her, there was something about this woman, who had so easily dismissed him as a machine that made him feel nervous and vulnerable.
She was carrying a suture kit and wore some latex glove. One of Marcus's guards arrived carrying a plastic chair and stool stacked on top of it. She directed him to place them in the middle of the room, directly beneath the light-bulb.
"Can you sit on the stool please?" She asked.
He walked forward and sat on the stool. The chains kept his hands behind his back, pulling at his shoulders, but that was probably how she intended it.
She eased herself down onto the chair with a sigh then looked around for somewhere to put the suture kit.
"Can you get me something to put this on?" The guard went immediately, leaving Marcus alone with her, feeling awkward and exposed.
As they waited, Kate fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair, shift her not inconsiderable weight about.
"When are you due?"
She looked at him a long moment before answering. "About a month."
"I once had a girlfriend who was pregnant. In her third trimester her ankle swelled up like balloons. She was always hot and uncomfortable. I'd take her down to the beach and we'd sit right at the waters edge and let the waves cool her down."
She looked interested. "You had a child?"
He shook his head. "Jen was a meth addict, couldn't give it up for nine months. The baby was still born."
"I'm sorry. That must have been hard."
He blew out a breath. "The start of slippery slope for me. One that ended with me donating my body to science, next thing I know it's fifteen years later and I'm a machine."
"You donated your body to science, were you dying?"
"Yeah." He regretted giving her that opening. He'd already exposed so much in mentioning Jen and the meth, he wasn't yet ready to explain his less that stellar past.
"I'm pretty sure Skynet engineered your heart to be strong and healthy, but if there's something in your DNA that I should know about for John..."
"No, it wasn't anything like that... I ..." He shut his mouth. He wouldn't do himself any favour telling this woman he'd been given a lethal injection for murdering 2 cops, and getting his brother killed in the cross fire.
The guard returned with another stool for her suture tray and she began her work.
"Open his shirt for me."
The guard did as instructed and unbuttoned Marcus's shirt. He could only sit there, straining against his chain feel utterly embarrassed as his taped up chest was revealed.
Kate began picking at the tape, before ripping it off piece by piece, earning sharp inhales and yelps from Marcus, which she ignored.
"The skin's begun to heal." She remarked. Marcus watched her latex-covered fingers rub up and down the edge of the wound. The sensation made his skin crawl, so he looked away.
"I'm not sure you need it but I'll give you a couple of stitches, to help the wound close faster."
She fell silent as she carefully sewed him up.
He remembered getting stitches before, when he was human, but he'd been given a local anaesthetic so hadn't really felt the needle moving in and out of his skin. This time, he'd been offered no painkillers so he felt every minute of it. There was however, little pain but for the first initial pin prick, then his cyborg nervous system kicked in and prevented him from feeling any lasting pain, but the sensation of his heartless chest being sewn up was still deeply disturbing.
He needed a distraction. "How's John doing?"
She halted her work for a moment, considering him, considering her answer. "He's still in recovery. Transplant surgery followed directly a long helicopter ride wasn't the best thing for him, but he'll be fine, if he stays rested."
"And he's not rejecting the heart?"
"No, it's strong, no signs of rejection, but it's still early."
Marcus couldn't help but be impatient for the resistance leader to recover. His existence seemed to depend on the man's expertise with machine. "I hope he recovers soon."
She looked up at him with pursed lips, and he could see the worry and suspicion clearly.
"I guess it would have been simpler if you had died a noble death and we'd buried you and moved on. Instead we're left to consider the security implications, the moral and ethical questions of your existence. Nothing is ever simple in this life. Even this war, it's been so black and white, man against machine, a real survival of the fittest. But the nature of the universe is that there has to be some grey in there, just to present a challenge to the status quo. And that's you, this great big question mark." She finished him off, tossing her the needle in the suture tray and briskly peeling off her latex gloves.
"I'm about to give birth, and my husband is lying in the war-time equivalent of an ICU. I don't have the time or patience for question marks or grey areas. I have to think of worst case scenarios, I have to think about the worst what ifs when it comes to you. That you're this big Trojan horse, waiting for the right moment to kill us all."
"I'm not going to kill you." Marcus protested.
"Not knowingly, I see that now." Her sad blue eyes looked him over again. "We don't know enough about how your machine cortex works. We can't determine your capacity to act as a sleeper agent, and be activated remotely when the opportunity arises."
Marcus hung his head, knowing she was right, wishing he could come up with a way to prove her wrong.
She made her way to the door then stopped. "We heard from Blair, they took heavy fire but they've managed to evacuate the Kansas bunker with minimal casualties. She'll be staying on until they get situated further south. She said to tell you she'll be back in about a weeks."
"Thank you." He nodded, genuinely grateful to hear that she was alright. He'd waited a lifetime to meet someone like Blair, he could manage another week.
TBC
